


Chaos Cuddles

by Sybariticfanfiction (SybariticReyna)



Category: Darksiders (Video Games)
Genre: Cuddles, Fluff, Multi, War is a cuddler okay fight me, hey luisa ily and your headcanons, that's really all there is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 17:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7473636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SybariticReyna/pseuds/Sybariticfanfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The human is very curious about War's alternate form.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chaos Cuddles

It took you weeks to get up the nerve to ask War if you could see his chaos form. You know it's silly, but it seemed _intimate_. You're just so curious. It's hard to get a good look at him in the middle of battle, and goodness knows his siblings are always trying to get you even farther away from said fights. "War can handle it," they say.

You _know_ War can handle it, okay, you just wanna admire your monster boyfriend. That's all you want.

That being said, saying "Can I see your chaos form" out loud, is much harder than you thought it would be. You've _tried_ , and War is very kind (compared to his siblings, at least) about your unending curiosity with nephilim things, but asking about weapons is so less personal than his alternate form.

He's half asleep when you finally do ask him, exhausted after a mission Death sent him on. He made it all the way to his room before he collapsed onto his bed, only moving when you joined him. Messy haired War isn't a sight you'd pass up, after all.

"You shouldn't sleep in your armor." You chide, settling down next to him.

He opens his eyes just enough to send you a note worthy glare.

You translate that to "do it yourself", as per usual. You actually really do enjoy figuring out how all the straps and buckles on his armor work, and you suspect War likes being doted on.

That being said, its pretty hard for you to strip him without any help. War is nice enough to begrudgingly assist you, and you reward him with a lazy kiss. He briefly kisses you back before laying down down, this time resting his head in your lap.

"I missed you, by the way." You hum. He makes a rumbly noise is reply, one of the many you've begun to associate with the Horsemen. This particular one is a pleased noise. You begin undoing the knots in his hair as you speak, asking, "Did you go swimming or something? Your hair..."

"The item was in a temple like Death claimed. He did not know it had been flooded." He answers sleepily, half muffled by your thigh. "It is... Taxing, to not breathe for so long."

"Nephilim are weird." You absently press your fingers against his pulse point. It's slower than yours, and the first time you noticed you were very confused. War was likewise confused when you let him feel your pulse.

"Humans are weird." He says. He reaches up with one hand, finding your shoulder and then your heavily scarred collarbone. A gift from one of your many fights. The Horsemen were both impressed and horrified by how quickly you healed and how much scar tissue was left. Apparently nephilim heal much slower (without the use of magic, at least). War himself is covered in tiny little scars, and you have to admit slower healing is at least more aesthetically pleasing.

"Yeah." You agree, pressing your cheek against his hand. _Now's the perfect time. Come on, just ask him!_ You try to talk yourself up, but its a little challenging to feel anything but content right about now. "War?" You finally ask. "Can..."

He lifts his head up just enough to look at you, and you're nearly too distracted by how very attractive your horseman is to continue.

"Can-I-see-your-chaos-form?" You blurt out. The words are all slurred together with nervousness, but War's bright eyes tell you he understood.

"My chaos form." He repeats.

You look up at the ceiling, avoiding his gaze. "Yes. You can hold it indefinitely again, right? So... Can I see it? You?" You're not sure what the proper terminology is for his alternate form.

War seems _startled_ when you look back at him.

"Like you could just transform right now, right? Well, preferably not on the bed, or while you're, like, between my legs--" He very pointedly kisses the top of your thigh at the mention of his position and you have to take a second to reevaluate where you're going with this, "But... I've never really gotten a good look at you in that form and to be honest I'm really curious."

He's quiet for a while, thinking over his response as he idly continues pressing little butterfly kisses to your leg. You think he's trying to get you to relax again, but all its really doing is making you wonder if instead of seeing his chaos form you could kiss the day lights outta him.

"...You're not intimidated?" He asks, not exactly hesitant but still worried. He hates the idea of you being scared of him, you know. He would _never._

"I'm more like 'holy hell that is my boyfriend,'" You don't need to amp up the pride in your voice, positive that War can hear it.

"Yes." War answers, lips pulling back in confusion. "But most beings find a nephilim's true form to be... disconcerting. I don't understand how being your boyfriend negates that." He says it so matter-of-fact that your chest hurts.

"War." You say, moving to pull his face up. "I love every version of you regardless of how big you are."

He makes a face, as if he's torn between being pleased and being _very confused_ , and you take the liberty to cover his lips with your own. It's a reminder kiss, telling him I love you.

Or, it starts as a reminder kiss, and quickly morphs into you knotting your fingers in his hair and nipping his bottom lip until he opens up to you. War is _surprisingly_ submissive in bed, to be honest. Which works out, because you adore taking the lead. He's also vocal, his moans reverberating into your kiss.

You arch up into him at the sound, every line of your torso pressed against him. He's so big. He could _crush you_ , and instead he smothers you with kisses and quiet affection.

You whine when he pulls away, grasping fruitlessly at now empty air. "War, you can't just kiss me like that and leave."

His laughter is tinged with self satisfaction, and you open your eyes to glare at where he now stands in the middle of the room. "I thought you wanted to see my chaos form?" He asks.

You're up in an instant, your scowl replaced with a starry eyed expression that leaves War completely unable to form words. Not that he would admit to it, of course. "Yes! Please, please, please, just ignore my complaining." You practically purr, excitement bubbling in your chest. "I'd love to see you chaos form."

When he doesn't immediately switch forms you cover your eyes with your hands and tease, "I won't look until you say."

He barks a laugh even as magic pools around him. You've felt it before of course, but never without distractions. It's overwhelming. Covering your eyes does nothing to stop the shivers that rake your frame.

There's no mistaking when War's chaos form hits the floor, and you peek through your fingers curiously.

He's watching you, his head tilted and tail idly swishing as he waits for your reaction.

You decide this was one of the best ideas you've ever had. "Oh my god." You squeak, jumping to your feet. You barely go up to his thighs now, and have to crane you head to look up at him. He scarcely escapes scraping those horns of his on the ceiling.

"Can I?" You ask, holding out a hand.

War makes a rumbly noise and shrugs.

You take that as a go ahead. He twitches when you first touch him, the flames sparking. They don't hurt though, only twist around your fingers. "You're like a rapidash." You giggle, pressing your hand more firmly against his leg. He's even warmer than usual in this form.

His answering grumble is much more appreciative this time, although you doubt that has anything to do with your pop culture references. You briefly wonder how much you can get away with under the guise of scientific inquiry before he changes back to pull you into bed.

Then again, you do actually want to get a good look at him.

You let your hands inch upward, marveling how much has changed. He has an entirely new bone structure. _What the fuck kinda overpowered magic..._

"You're so cool lookin." You say, mostly to yourself. Then you pause, lips tilting up. "Or hot, I suppose would be more appropriate."

The next noise War makes is _far_ from appropriate, his new (to you at least) fangs clicking together when he pulls a face.

You just laugh, knowing very well he'll pay you back later. "Does it feel weird? Being in a different form?"

Again, he shrugs.

"Remind me to ask again when you're actually capable of speech." You snicker. "But, in the mean time, you mind picking me up?" He hesitates, only granting your wish when you send him a reassuring smile. "Come on, I'm not that heavy."

He can still snort in this form, you learn. One of his hands reaches for you, easily wrapping around your waist. He picks you up like a doll, bringing you level to his face before placing you in his other hand, now situated to be sitting in his palm. You kick your legs (rather childishly) and his eyes narrow.

He has the same eyes.

That just reminds you of why you wanted to be up in the first place. You inspect his face, taking in the fearsome fangs and strange new everything. He does also have the mark above his eyes, although its hard to make out. You trace it with your fingertips and he leans into your hand.

"Stop being cute, you giant volcano monster." You order mock seriously.

War bears his teeth in response, a low growl in his throat.

"Fucking _adorable._ " You state.

He huffs, and you run your thumb over the tip of one of his fangs. It stings a bit, but you didn't press hard enough to break skin. "You could, like, bite my hand off. Then we'd _match_."

War's laugh in this form is weird. 

You press a kiss to his scarred forehead, relying on his fingers to keep you in palm. "Love you."

His growl is borderline scary now, and you glance at him curiously. "What? I can't kiss you?"

He seems conflicted, shifting from foot to foot before moving to... Well it's more of an awkward nuzzle than a kiss. A tooth scraps your cheek and you wince.

 _He can't kiss me back,_ you realize. "Ohhhhh." You nod, "I get it, you don't like being unable return the favor." You nod in complete understanding, only to continue, "But I'm gonna kiss you anyway."

His grumbles are much less annoyed this time, melting into what you would almost consider a purr as you cover his face in kisses. "I love you." You repeat, smiling proudly. You might like getting War all worked up a little too much, honestly. It's just so much fun!

One of your hands latch onto the closest horn when you lean even closer, keeping you grounded as well as preventing you from falling. Not that the clawed fingers around your thigh have any problem doing that.

You murmur nonsense praise in between kisses, telling him how much you love him and why you do.

He makes it nearly five minutes before stomping over to the bed, gently placing you down, and detransforming. Much less magic is involved in that part, apparently. You watch with avid interest, amused when War blinks a few times before focusing back on you.

His eyes narrow as he stalks closer and you bite down on your lip. All traces of his previous exhaustion have faded, shoved to the side in favor of getting 'revenge'.

 _So, he's in one of those moods_ , you think bemusedly. So much for letting you take the lead. Granted, you were the one that put him in such a mood, unfairly kissing him as you were, but still. You can't help yourself from teasing, "I wasn't done yet."

War pauses, appearing to be thinking it over. "Later." He finally decides.

* * *

 

He holds true on his promise to let you see his chaos form again over the next few weeks, sometimes without any prompting. He seems happy to simply sit with you with in lap, those weird growling (or perhaps purring?) noises a near constant background noise.

You become very comfortable with his alternate form during those times, so when a group of rogue demons attacks the main house (a horrible plan, meant to send a message rather than actually do damage, Death will later explain), you don't really think much of holding a hand out for War. He understands immediately, abandoning his sword in favor of scooping you up.

"Have I ever told you how much I love how vicious you are?" You murmur, leaning against his chest.

It's a unique feeling, being cradled by War, Horseman of the Apocalypse. Deadly claws pressed delicately against yours thigh, only really needing one hand to keep you up, fire that doesn't hurt curling against your sides, the sheer size difference between the two of you, and War, just being himself. It's strange and wonderful.

Fury is blessedly the only one to witness your impromptu snuggles, and her only comment is about War's improvements over the last few years (you assume her "last few years" is much longer than your "last few years).

War doesn't react aside from a grumbling noise, only moving when she breezes past the two of you. If Fury notices the bony tail wrapped around your ankle, she doesn't make it known.

"Are you always so possessive or is it a chaos form thing?" You hum, pointedly kicking your feet. There's a difference between chaos War and your usual War, you know. He's mentioned it only briefly, saying that emotions are stronger. That explains why he seems so one track minded in battle, you suppose.

War keeps his tail where it is, simply shrugging.

"So... Cuddle time?"

**Author's Note:**

> My cinnamon roll, soaked in the blood of beef.


End file.
